


There Was Only One Waterbed

by Aisalynn



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: M/M, and generally has bad taste, cause he is a snake and he likes the warmth, the large bed crowley has in his flat is actually a waterbed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2020-07-30 22:34:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20104711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aisalynn/pseuds/Aisalynn
Summary: Crowley grimaced. “I don’t have any books.”“Really?” Aziraphale was astonished. Not have any books? Who could live like that? “None at all?”The demon shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t read.”“Oh. Well, then. I guess—” he fumbled. “I suppose I’ll just get comfortable on the sofa and uh, relax for a bit.” He looked around at the stark, gray walls. “Do you… have a sofa?”“Ah, no.”“An armchair?”Crowley reached one hand up to scratch lightly at the back of his head, a mildly embarrassed expression crossing his face. “No.”“Well.” Aziraphale turned back to the desk. The throne it was.It looked hideously uncomfortable.





	There Was Only One Waterbed

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by an anonymous headcanon I received that suggested Crowley slept on a waterbed.

“It’s, ah, very kind of you to let me stay here tonight,” Aziraphale said hesitantly. His gaze roamed around the empty room, eyes catching on the ornate wooden chair in front of Crowley’s desk. Though chair, he thought, was not quite the right word. Throne was more apt, with its harsh angles and garish colors.

“Right. Kind.” Crowley muttered from behind him. Though he made no further protest at the word. “Well, I think I am going to head to bed. After these last eleven years I feel like I could sleep a decade. At least.”

That’s right. Crowley liked to sleep, like the humans do. Aziraphale tried not to make a face. That didn’t sound appealing to him at all. “Very good,” he said briskly, turning around to shoot Crowley a smile. “I’ll just stay out here and read, I think.”

Crowley grimaced. “I don’t have any books.” 

“Really?” Aziraphale was astonished. Not have any books? Who could live like that? “None at all?”

The demon shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t read.” 

“Oh. Well, then. I guess—” he fumbled. “I suppose I’ll just get comfortable on the sofa and uh, relax for a bit.” He looked around at the stark, gray walls. “Do you… have a sofa?” 

“Ah, no.”

“An armchair?”

Crowley reached one hand up to scratch lightly at the back of his head, a mildly embarrassed expression crossing his face. “No.”

“Well.” Aziraphale turned back to the desk. The throne it was. 

It looked hideously uncomfortable. 

“Listen, we could—I mean you could just—” At Crowley’s halting words Aziraphale turned to look at him again. A complicated expression was taking over the demon’s face, and Aziraphale had the sudden urge to step closer to him and see if he was alright. It looked like it hurt. 

“We could share it,” Crowley finally blurted out. “The bed, I mean.”

Aziraphale felt his eyebrows shoot up and almost into his hairline. Were they human that suggestion would be considered quite risque. As an angel and a demon it positively scandalous. 

Then again, Aziraphale thought as he studied Crowley’s nervous expression, Crowley was right: they were on their own side now. And he had to admit, he liked the thought of being close to the demon in case Hell decided to punish Crowley tonight after all. 

“I don’t sleep,” Aziraphale warned. 

Crowley shrugged one shoulder. “Won’t bother me. I never notice anything when I do.” 

It probably was better that Aziraphale to stay close then. Just in case. “Alright then,” he agreed. “Lead the way.” 

Crowley took him through a strange revolving door and into a large room at the end of the hall. It was just as empty as Crowley’s office, but the space was dominated by the single piece of furniture in it: a massive bed against the wall with an intricate wooden headboard looming above it. 

“Goodness. We could fit both Gabriel and Beezelbub with us in that thing.”

Crowley screwed his face up in disgust. “Let’s not.” He marched over to his closet, presumably to change into something more comfortable to sleep in. 

Lacking any other options, Aziraphale just took off his shoes and coat, placing them neatly on the pristine floor by the bed, before slowly—gingerly—sitting down on one corner of the bed.

And promptly gasped as the entire thing lurched underneath him.

“Crowley!” he cried out, bracing himself on the footboard. “There is something wrong with your bed!” Even with one hand on the footboard the entire mattress beneath him was  _ rocking. _ Aziraphale may have had little experience with sleeping, but he was pretty sure that beds weren’t supposed to do  _ that. _

“No there isn’t, angel. It’s supposed to be that way. It’s a waterbed.”

“A  _ what?” _

Crowley didn’t turn around, but Aziraphale would swear that the back of his neck, now laid bare by the night shirt he had changed into, was turning a faint shade of red. “A water bed,” Crowley said again. “Humans invented them.”

“And you  _ sleep _ on this?”

Crowley shot him an irritated glance as he closed the closet door. “It has a heater.”

Of course. Aziraphale couldn’t help a small smile. “Serpent,” he said fondly. 

The irritated expression on his face didn’t change, but this time Aziraphale was sure of the flush crawling it’s way up his neck. “Just lay down, angel,” the demon said in exasperation. 

Aziraphale did. The whole mattress wobbled underneath him. The motion was even worse when Crowley crawled in on the other side. It wasn’t too different from being on a raft in the middle of the water. The angel was a little worried that his mortal form would get sea sick during the night. 

“Goodnight, angel,” Crowley said, making himself comfortable on the bed.

“Oh. Yes. Goodnight”

Of course, Aziraphale did not sleep. He didn’t sleep, generally. And even if he were inclined to, he certainly wouldn’t have been able to on this bed. Every slight movement he made caused the bed to jiggle beneath him, and he sent more than one anxious glance to the demon beside him, worried the motion would wake him.

Crowley stayed true to his word, however, and didn’t seem to notice a thing. He slept through every irritated shift, every wiggle the mattress made. Until Aziraphale, too uncomfortable to stand it, finally rolled over onto his back. The motion caused the mattress to heave, and the demon rolled with it, all the way over to Aziraphale’s side of the bed.

Aziraphale froze. Did not breathe.

Miraculously, Crowley did not wake up and protest the proximity. In fact, in his sleep he wiggled himself closer, plastering his front to Aziraphale’s side, and throwing one arm around his waist with a pleased sigh.

Aziraphale looked down at the head currently resting on his forearm in bewilderment. Then, he relaxed. He could feel the heartbeat of Crowley’s mortal form through the chest Crowley had pressed up against his side, feel the exhale of his breath against his skin. 

It was nice. Like this, when one of them shifted, they moved together, the gentle rocking of the bed beneath them soothing. It reminded him suddenly of the Ark, all those thousands of years ago. A demon and an angel, huddled together on the rocking boat, taking comfort in each other’s company as they waited out the storm.

Aziraphale felt his eyes close of their own volition, felt his body sink further into relaxation as his breath fell in sync with Crowley’s.

They weren’t so bad after all, waterbeds. 

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> [Come say hi on my tumblr!](https://aisalynn.tumblr.com/)


End file.
